Unsuitable Behavior
by owlcroft
Summary: Mark and the Judge get a last glimpse of the Little Dipper.


Disclaimer: These are not my characters and I make no profit from them.

Author's Note: This one's dedicated to Cheri, who persuaded me to provide more tinder, hoping for a spark.

UNSUITABLE BEHAVIOR

There was a thermal inversion over most of southern California and that meant it was _hot_. No cooling ocean breezes, no night-time fog; just thick, sultry, stagnant air.

Retired Judge Milton Hardcastle sat on the patio beside the pool and tried to read the sports pages. It was difficult enough with the heat, but the splashing from the pool didn't help. At least the girl had her bathing suit on this time.

Vonna Westerlake was Mark McCormick's latest interest and she was typical of his juvenile tastes - built like a brick outhouse and dumb as a box of rocks. Judge Hardcastle sighed and turned to page three to continue the article about Drysdale's latest lack of control.

"Hey, Hardcastle!" McCormick shouted from the kitchen door. "You want a beer or something?"

The judge looked up and shaded his eyes with his hand. "Yeah, bring out that pitcher of tea and some glasses!" he yelled back.

Once McCormick had the tray with tea and glasses on the patio table, Hardcastle put down the paper and said, "You know, Mrs. Winslow is coming over this afternoon with that rose cutting. Are you absolutely sure your little friend got the message about keeping her clothes on? I don't want another surprise like last time I let her in the pool."

Mark shook his head and poured tea. "No, she got it. I was very emphatic with her, Judge. And she swore she'd keep her bikini on this time, damn it."

"I don't know what girls today are thinking." The judge sipped tea and shook his head. "No modesty, no sense of decorum. When I was a young man, we _respected_ women."

McCormick held his glass of tea to his forehead. "Well, back in the Middle Ages when you were a kid, women didn't wear bikinis, either. If you ask me, this is a definite improvement. And besides, you have to admit she's got the body for it."

"That's not the point. The point is she doesn't have any respect for anybody else and she doesn't have any self-respect. If she did, we wouldn't be having this little talk."

"Well, it's too hot to argue, anyway." Mark wiped the condensation from the glass off his forehead and drank his tea.

"Markey!" Vonna waved from the side of the pool. "Come on in. This is the perfect weather for swimming, except it's so hot."

"Maybe in a bit." He gave a half-wave in return and picked up his tea again.

"So, why aren't you in the pool with her?" The judge poured himself a second glass. "Come to think of it, I don't remember you being in the pool all summer. What's the matter, you get allergic to chlorine all of a sudden?"

McCormick leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "I've been a little busy, you know - trimming hedges, mowing lawns, chasing bad guys."

"Huh. Not _that_ busy. You got something against pools now?"

McCormick sat up straight. "Isn't that a car? Listen."

"Yep. Mrs. Winslow with the cutting. I'll pour her some tea, you go bring her back here." Hardcastle made a faint attempt to clear up the newspapers spread all over the table.

"Yeah, yeah." Mark grumbled all the way to the side of the house. "When it's too hot to breathe, I get to escort all the old biddies, and fetch and carry tea, and do all my chores in the heat of the day. It would serve you right if I collapsed from heat exhaustion . . ."

Once his voice had faded out, the judge cast a last look over his shoulder at the pool to make sure Vonna was decently clothed. No, she had on that skimpy bikini, but it was better than nothing.

He stood as McCormick escorted a stately figure through the arch. "Mrs. Winslow, how nice to see you again. And how nice of you to come all the way over here in this weather." _Be polite_, he told himself. _She won't stay long in this heat._

"Milton, you dear thing. Is that tea for me?" Mrs. Winslow settled her bulk onto the chair next to Hardcastle's and handed him the rose cutting she'd brought. "This is the climbing Peace I told you about. It really ought to be put in water right away."

"Don't tell me," Mark sighed and reached for the cutting. "I'll be right back."

Mrs. Winslow smiled coyly at the judge, tilting her head to the side. "So, tell me, Milton. How are your roses doing in this terrible heat?"

Hardcastle laughed embarassedly and edged his chair back from hers. "Oh, they're doing okay." He laughed again and then cleared his throat. "And yours are doing all right, are they?"

McCormick let the kitchen door slam and started back to the patio. Half-way there he looked toward the pool and froze. "Vonna!"

The judge looked at McCormick and Mrs. Winslow cast a glance toward the pool.

"Oh! Oh! Dear!" Mrs. Winslow turned bright pink and stood up. "I'm so sorry, Milton. I must be going. Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the glass of roses. I'm sure you . . .yes, indeed. So nice to, ah . . . No, please don't bother. I'm quite . . . oh, my!" She was through the arch by now and heading for her car at a rapid walk.

Judge Hardcastle had closed his eyes and was pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's done it again, hasn't she?"

"But Markey, it's just being closer to the elements!" Vonna looked up at an unhappy McCormick on the coping. "To be truly one with nature is only natural."

The judge shook his head. Then he thought of an outraged Mrs. Winslow thinking this was normal activity at his poolside, and felt better.

"Out. Now." McCormick pulled a reluctant Vonna from the pool. "Here, put this around you." He handed her a towel and pointed her towards the house. "Go on, and take this with you." He grabbed her bikini and handed the pieces to her, nudging her toward the house. "Get inside. I'll be there in a minute to take you home."

The dripping young blonde walked disconsolately past a resigned Judge Hardcastle. "Gee, I don't get why you guys have such a problem with being natural."

Hardcastle waved a hand at her, keeping his eyes firmly closed. "You know the rule. Keep your clothes on or go home. It's my pool, it's my rule."

ooooo

The judge heard the Coyote drive up and park. He waited.

McCormick came down the side driveway and headed for the pool. Sitting down, he ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "I'm really sorry, Judge. She _promised_ me. And with Mrs. Winslow here, too. It won't happen again, okay?" He sighed again. " I broke up with her."

"Well, you didn't have to do _that_." Hardcastle poured his friend some tea. "You could see her all you want somewhere besides my pool."

"Yeah, I know," Mark said. "But she _promised _me. And she took her clothes off anyway. So, how much do I mean to her if she can do that?"

"Okay. That's a point. And you really don't need a girlfriend who's naked as a jaybird half the time anyway."

Mark grinned. "That's where you're wrong, Hardcase."

Hardcastle sniffed, then tried not to smile.

"Anyway," Mark continued, "she 's just too much trouble. And _way_ too goofy."

"Yeah, what's all that about being natural by swimming buck-naked? If she really wants to get natural in water, she oughta try swimming in a crick with frogs and water-bugs and cottonmouths." The judge leaned back in his chair and wiped his brow.

"A crick?" McCormick looked at him quizzically. "Don't you mean creek? Like the sound a door makes? A crick's a pain in the neck. Which you ought to know all about since you are one."

"Har, har. Look, wise guy, I swam in cricks when I was a kid and that's what they were called then and that's what they're _still_ called in this house. Got it? _Crick. _Now, I'm gonna cool off in the pool for a bit. How about you?"

McCormick hesitated. "Nah, I think I'll just go get that cutting and . . ."

"Now that's enough. What's wrong with you that you won't get in the damn pool?" Hardcastle gave the younger man a hard look. "Are ya sick or something? What's the problem?"

"Nothing." Mark shrugged and sank lower in his chair. "I'm fine."

A silence fell that lasted nearly a minute.

"Okay! I had an ear infection, all right?" McCormick was always good at the sullen look.

"When did that happen? What did Charley say about it?" Hardcastle was less concerned with the ear infection than with the desire to hide it.

"I didn't see Charley. I went to somebody else because I didn't want you to know about it. It's all cleared up now. I finished the antibiotics two months ago. Now, why don't you take a nice little swim?"

"Okay. Two things." Hardcastle held up a finger. "One, why didn't you want me to know? And, two," he held up a second finger, "Why wait for two months? Didn't the doctor say it was safe before now?"

McCormick drew designs in the condensation on the table. "I knew a kid in high school who got an ear infection from swimming in the ocean. His folks didn't take him to the doctor for a week and he lost his hearing in that ear. I guess I was just being really careful, that's all."

"And how'd ya get it? Why was it such a big secret?"

"I didn't want you worrying about it." Mark looked at the pool. "I got it diving in a reservoir."

"Oh. " The judge looked at the pool himself. "A reservoir in Arkansas, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well." Judge Hardcastle thought about that. Christie had told him about Mark's desperate dives in the reservoir, searching for him. He considered all the things he might say and finally ended up with "I'm glad you're better."

McCormick thought of all the things Hardcastle didn't say and responded to all of them with "Yeah . . . me, too." He got up and headed for the house. "You want more tea or a beer after your little dip?"

"A beer sounds good. Where ya going?"

Mark grinned at him and said, "I have to take a lick."

finis


End file.
